Tim. Would thou wert clean enough to fpit upon. A plague on thee!

Apem. Thou art too bad to curse.

2

Tim. All villains that do ftand by thee, are pure. Apem. There is no leprofie but what thou fpeak'ft. Tim. 'I'd beat thee, but I should infect my hands. Atem. I would my tongue could rot them off! Tim. Away, thòu iffue of a mangy dog! Choler does kill me, that thou art alive; 1 fwoon to fee thee.

Apem. 'I would thou wouldst burft!

Tim. Away, thou tedious rogue, I am forry I Shall lose a stone by thee.

Apem. Beaft!

Tim. Slave!
Apem. Toad!

Tim. 'Rogue!

I am fick of this falfe world, and will love nought
But ev❜n the meer neceffities upon it.

Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave;
Lye where the light foam of the fea may beat
Thy grave-ftone daily; make thine epitaph,
That death in me at others lives may laugh.
O thou fweet King-killer, and dear divorce

[Looking on the gold. 'Twixt natural fon and fire! thou bright defiler Of Hymen's pureft bed! thou valiant Mars,

Thou ever young, fresh, lov'd, and delicate wooer,
Whofe blufh doth thaw the confecrated fnow,

That lyes on Dian's lap! thou visible God,

That fouldreft clofe impoffibilities,

And mak'ft them kifs! that speak'ft with every tongue

To every purpofe! Oh, thou touch of hearts!

Think thy flave man rebels, and by thy virtue
Set them into confounding odds, that beafts
May have the world in empire.

Apem. Would 'twere fo,

But not 'till I am dead! I'll fay th' haft gold;

2 I'll 3 Would 4 Rogue! rogue! rogue!

Thou

Thou wilt be throng'd to fhortly.

Tim. Throng'd to?

Apem. Ay.

s Tim. Thy back, I pr'ythee: live and love thy mifery: Long live fo or fo die, so I am quit.

Mo things like men? eat, Timon, and abhor them.`

Apem. The plague of company will fear to catch it, and give way. what else to do, I'll fee thee again.

[Seeing the Thieves. light upon thee! I When I know not

Tim. When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Ape[Exit Apemantus.

mantus.

1 Thief. Where fhould he have this gold? It is fome poor fragment, fome flender ort of his remainder: the meer want of gold, and the falling off of friends, drove him into this melancholy.

2 Thief. It is nois'd he hath a mass of treasure.

3 Thief Let us make the affay upon him; if he care not for't, he will fupply us eafily: if he covetously reserve it, how fhall's get it?

2 Thief. True; for he bears it not about him: 'tis hid. I Thief. Is not this he?

All: Where?

All. We are not thieves, but men that much do want.
Tim. Your greatest want is, you want much of 7 'men.
Why should you want? behold, the earth hath roots;
Within this mile break forth an hundred fprings;
The oaks bear mafts, the briers fcarlet hips.

The bounteous hufwife nature on each bush
Lays her full mefs before you. Want? why want?
i Thief. We cannot live on grafs, on berries, water,
As beafts, and birds, and fishes.

Tim. Nor on the beafts themselves, the birds, and fifhes.
You must eat men. Yet thanks I muft you con,
That you are thieves profeft; that you work not
In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
In limited profeffions. Rafcals, thieves,

Here's gold. Go, fuck the fubtle blood o' th' grape
'Till the high feaver feeth your blood to froth,
And fo 'fcape hanging. Truft not the physician,
His antidotes are poifon, and he flays

More than you rob, takes wealth, and life together.
Do villainy, do, fince you profefs to do't,
Like workmen, I'll example you with thievery.
The fun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vaft fea. The moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire fhe fnatches from the fun.
The fea's a thief, whofe liquid furge refolves
The 'mounds into falt tears. The earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a compofture ftoln
From gen'ral excrement: each thing's a thief.
The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power
Have uncheck'd theft. Love not your felves, away,
Rob one another, there's more gold; cut throats;
All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go,
Break open fhops, for nothing can you steal
But thieves do lofe it: fteal not lefs for what

I give, and gold confound you howfoever! Amen. [Exit.

3 Thief. H'as almost charm'd me from my profession, by perfwading me to it.

1 Thief. 'Tis in his malice to mankind, that he thus advifes us; not to have us thrive in our mystery.

2 Thief. I'il believe him as an enemy; and give over my trade.

1 Thief. Let us firft fee peace in Athens.

1/2 Thief. There is no time fo miferable but a man may be true.

[Exeunt.

A CT V.

SCENE I.

The Woods and Timon's Cave.

Enter Flavius to Timon.

OH you Gods!

FLAVIU S.

Is yon defpis'd and ruinous man my Lord?
Full of decay and failing? oh monument
And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd!
What change of honour defp'rate want has made!
What viler thing upon the earth, than friends,
Who can bring nobleft minds to bafeft ends?
How rarely does it meet with this time's guife,
When man was wifht to love his enemies!
Grant I may ever love and rather woo

Thofe that would mischief me, than thofe that do.
H'as caught me in his eye, I will present
My honeft grief to him; and, as my Lord,
Still ferve him with my life. My dearest master!
Tim. Away! what art thou?

Flav. Have you forgot me, Sir?

1 the malice of

2 this fpeech to 1 Thief in old edit. Warb. emend.

Tim.

3

Tim. Why doft ask that? I have forgot all men.
Then if thou granteft that thou art a man

I have forgot thee.

Flav. An honeft fervant.

Tim. Then I know thee not:

I ne'er had honeft man about me, all

I kept were knaves, to ferve in meat to villains.
Flav. The Gods are witness,

Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief

For his undone Lord, than mine eyes

for you.

[thee,

Tim. What, doft thou weep? come nearer; then I love Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'ft

Flinty mankind; whofe eyes do never give,

But or through luft, or laughter. a

Flav. I beg of you to know me, good my Lord,
T' accept my grief, and whilft this poor wealth lafts,
To entertain me as your fteward ftill.

Tm. Had I a steward

So true, fo juft, and now fo comfortable?
It almost turns my dangerous nature mild.
Let me behold thy face: furely, this man
Was born of woman.

Forgive my gen'ral and exceptlefs rashness,
Perpetual-fober Gods! I do proclaim

One honeft man: mistake me not, but one.
No more I pray, and he's + 'a fteward too.
How fain would I have hated all mankind,
And thou redeem'ft thy felf: but all fave thee
I fell with curfes.

Methinks thou art more honeft now than wife :
For, by oppreffing and betraying me,
Thou might'ft have fooner got another fervice:
For many fo arrive at fecond mafters,

Upon their firft Lord's neck. But tell me true,

E 2

(a) or laughter. Pity's fleeping;

Strange times! that weep with laughing, not with weeping.
Flav. I beg of-

3 wild.

4 a steward.

(For